Verified Fanfiction Drivel
by PrincessEilonwy
Summary: Isadora and Duncan find something that will change their lives forever--or at least for a few months.
1. A Discovery

Disclaimer: A word which here means "admitting that Lemony Snicket, that incredible genius, owns A Series of Unfortunate Events and all characters pertaining thereto so that I don't get sued like poor Beatrice."

A/N: My first SoUE story!  Hopefully another one should be coming along soon, both of them no doubt absolutely inane.  Oh well...I suspect the main reason why this one will be stupid is that I thought of the title before the plot.  If you decide not to read the story, at least read the bonus trailer, which I personally think is closer to the spirit of the series than some others I've read.  Remember, it's up to you, the readers, to decide whether or not this story has lived up to its title, which (believe it or not!) does have something to do with the plot.  If you don't understand the point of the title, think about it for a while.

Verified Fanfiction Drivel

Unless you have lived in a beautiful green mansion where the world is quiet all your life, I am sure you must know by now that there are many things in life that one does not like.  I did not like tramping through the Murky Marsh to find the remains of the Quagmire residence and pick up the secret package inscribed with the words _Give to Beatrice before it's too late._  I did not like the nasty development involving two very white-faced maids and a pair of small trout that forced me to move this computer from my room at the Horrible Hotel to a concrete bunker far underneath the Disagreeable Desert.  And I did not at all like the flame I received last week from unibrow_orphnkilr, who says he will alert the owners of fanfiction.net to the dangers of allowing me to post stories.

The Baudelaires, I'm sorry to say, know even more than I about unpleasant events like these.  In fact, one might say they are experts on misery, a word which here means "Count Olaf, a greedy and most unpleasant man who follows the Baudelaires about and makes most unpleasant things happen to them."  And, as I am even sorrier to say, they were experiencing a surpassingly unpleasant event at the moment our story opens.

Slowly and leisurely at first, but quickly picking up speed, the trailer containing Violet and Klaus Baudelaire rolled down the steep slope toward certain death.  Violet screamed and clung to Klaus.  Klaus screamed louder and clung to Violet.  Watching in helpless horror, their baby sister Sunny screamed, "Jerk!" which probably meant something along the lines of "You terrible man, must you always make our lives so miserable?"

Meanwhile, far above the scene and blissfully unaware of the danger their friends were in, Isadora and Duncan Quagmire floated peacefully in Hector's hot air balloon.  Having narrowly escaped Count Olaf and his cronies, they were now bored to tears less than a week later.

Duncan stretched out and yawned lazily.  "So, what do we do today?"

"The same thing we do every day, Duncan," Isadora said dully.  "Try to retain our sanity."  In the adjacent basket, Hector turned over and kept snoring.  Really, it was almost impossible to wake the man during his afternoon nap.  Now, what was there to do in a hot-air balloon in the middle of nowhere?  Other than looking for shapes in the clouds, Isadora could think of nothing interesting—and she had had quite enough of cloudgazing in the last few days.

Quiet prevailed for a few minutes.  Then Duncan suggested cheerfully, "I know!  We could play I Spy."  Peering down at the faraway ground, he said, "I spy with my little eye something—"  Isadora growled threateningly, and he subsided with a small sigh.

"I said try to _retain_ our sanity, smart one," she muttered, favoring him with a dark look.  Duncan retreated into a corner and started looking for shapes in the clouds.  After two minutes he had found an eye, an eye, and...another eye.  This was extremely depressing, so he gave up after a while and traced the weave on the side of the basket.

Isadora's voice jolted him out of his semi-catatonic state.  "Hey, Duncan, come have a look at this."  Obedient as always, he heaved himself up with a sigh and joined her to see what she had discovered now.  In the far corner of the basket was a small, compact case that could only be...

"A laptop!" he breathed, eyes sparkling at the possibilities open to them with access to a computer.  Checking quickly over her shoulder to make sure Hector was still asleep, Isadora reverently picked up the precious object and snapped it open with a flourish.  Now if they could only figure out the passwords...

Nights spent by the fire studying books on computer hacking began to come back to Duncan.  "Here, allow me," he whispered, gently nudging his sister out of the way.  His fingers flew over the keyboard, and after a few minutes they were in.

"You're good," Isadora said, giving him a brief look of admiration at his electronic prowess before she became all business again.  "Right.  To the Internet!"  She deftly clicked on the icon and they both watched in something approaching worshipfulness as the screen came up.

Clicking on the search terms box, Isadora murmured, "Hmm...how about something like 'poetry forum'?"  Duncan rolled his eyes at the predictability of it all, but wisely said nothing.  Honestly, did she expect to find anything remotely interesting with a search like that?

Apparently.  More surprisingly, she did.  "This looks cool," she mused softly, looking at a link.  Duncan frowned.

"But that has nothing to do with 'poetry forum'!  It must have just picked up the words somewhere," he protested.  She shrugged and clicked on it anyway...

The triplets' eyes widened at the wondrous site they beheld.  There, in all its glory, was a page bearing the legend "fanfiction.net"!  Isadora's mouth formed an "O" of delight as she traced the links beneath: Anime, Cartoon, Game, Movie, Book, Miscellaneous, Comic, and TV Show.  Why, this was a dream come true!

"Hey!" Duncan said suddenly, eyes fixed on something in the messages below the links.  "Look at that down there, it says something about this new site called FictionPress.com for original fiction and poetry—"  The rest of his remark was cut short by Isadora elbowing out of the way to get a better look at this extraordinary piece of luck.  Ever since their parents and Quigley had died, they had had rotten luck, but here was a potential reversal in their fortunes.  Who could be unhappy with a wellspring of joy like this?

Hector stopped snoring and began to fidget restlessly, a sign of imminent awakening.  Isadora and Duncan looked at each other with a sigh, but knew they would have to shut down the laptop quickly before he caught them.  Not that he would yell at them—oh, no, Hector never _yelled—_but he would probably give them a lecture on the dangers of computers and how they could electrocute themselves or worse, give out information on the Net to a stranger.

Looking crestfallen at Hector's inopportune timing, Isadora sadly turned off the computer and returned it to its case, glancing over her shoulder quickly to make sure he was still half-asleep.  She beckoned to Duncan and they hastily climbed into the adjoining basket, practicing their innocent looks.

Hector snorted softly, groaned, and blinked a few times.  "Well," he said, yawning hugely, "that was a good nap."  Looking at the triplets' somewhat downcast faces, he added, "What's wrong, kids?  You look down."  Duncan and Isadora put on fake grins while flashing "Oh, boy, here we go again," looks at each other.

"Nothing!  No, really, nothing at all," Duncan protested, a note of controlled panic creeping into his voice.  It was too late, though—Hector was determined to cheer them up.  Isadora stifled a groan and steeled herself for the coming horror.

Hector's face brightened suddenly as he got an idea.  "I know!" he cried triumphantly.  "We can play Old Maid!"  There was a small squeak from Duncan as this sank in, but Hector was oblivious and began dealing out the cards happily.  There was no escape.

"Until tomorrow," Isadora murmured, looking longingly at her new best friend, the laptop.

A/N: Yes, I've kind of given up on writing Snicket style because it isn't my style, so the first two paragraphs of this chapter mark the beginning and end of my attempts to imitate his writing.  Thank goodness, because I have a feeling I'm not much good at it.  Oh well...You may have noticed that the story started with the Baudelaires and quickly switched to the Quagmires.  I decided the Quagmires deserved a story more or less all to themselves.  Here is the bonus SoUE trailer, which I put in because everyone else was doing them a month or two ago when I started writing this.

=====

Bonus SoUE Trailer:

Beethoven's 5th starts up in the background, which is black with lightning bolts occasionally flashing across it [note: optional rumbles of thunder may be added here for effect].  In case you're not familiar with Beethoven's 5th, it's the one that starts out "Da da da DAAAAA, da da da DAAAAA..."

VOICEOVER: Coming in 2004: A Gustav Sebald Film.  A Series of Unfortunate Motion Pictures: Film the First: The Bad Beginning.

Words appear on screen in blinding white:

_Don't watch this movie._

=====

Anyway, the next chapter should be coming fairly soon, and unless something changes drastically it will involve the horrors of signing up for a fanfiction/FictionPress.com ID.  At least I hope it will come soon...I don't usually update very fast, mainly because I'm working on so many stories at the same time.  My attitude of late has been something like "Why are you complaining?  You got your update, that should hold you for the next two months."  But I'm working on that, I promise, and sooner or later I'm going to write another SoUE story called "The Sorry Story" or something like that.  Sounds fascinating, no?


	2. An Adventure

Disclaimer: The Quagmires belong to Lemony Snicket, fanfiction.net and FictionPress.com belong to Xing Li, Diego Montoya, Yosemite Sam, and Tara O'Shea (I guess, not sure about that really), and the laptop belongs to Hector.

A/N: Here it is!  I got really good responses on this, thanks to everyone who reviewed!

edgy wedgy: Wow.  Thanks.  Unfortunately I'm thinking my chances of "writing for real" are very small, unless some talent agent or something discovers me on FictionPress.com.  No, wait…I haven't posted anything there yet…never mind.

katie janeway: Yep, I love twists to clichéd plots.  And Duncan and Isadora are really the best characters.

A: I know.  The Quagmires are the best.  And you'd better review before Monday.

littlesheryl223: Thanks!  Um…bump?  Shall I take that as a threat?

wiggles1: Here it is!  I've updated, and only eight months later!

blissfully ignorant: Thank you.  I laughed my bum off writing it.  :)  Glad you enjoyed it.

Ally Quagmire: Yes, the Quagmires are the best.  Though their picture at the end of the fifth book didn't look the way I thought they would…Oh well.  Thanks!

Nightshade the Hedgehog:  Thanks!  Aaagh…guilt…I didn't review your story yet…but I will in the next five seconds after I post this chapter, I promise!

Caspian Raider: I like your name.  Is it from the Chronicles of Narnia or something I have no clue about?  Here is indeed more of Isadora's new friend…or her precioussssss, as I like to call it…

;P : I like it too.  Gives me something to do when I want to make my favorite characters look stupid.  :)

Chris Gazeent: Thanks.  I like your site, very cool.

MUSHROOMS: Thanks!  I signed up, looks like a lot of fun!

An Adventure

The next day, Isadora and Duncan could hardly wait for Hector to fall asleep after lunch.  To their dismay, he showed no signs of being in the least tired, but sat and read for the next hour and a half.  The triplets occasionally cast longing glances at the coveted laptop, but dared do nothing more while Hector remained awake.

After Hector had caught them glancing over at him for the ninth time, he asked gently, "Is anything wrong?"  Isadora smiled and shook her head firmly, stepping on Duncan's foot just in case he'd forgotten to act normal.  He hadn't, and he resented her assumption that he wasn't smart enough to remember things on his own, but he smiled nonetheless.  Now was not the time to discuss it.

"All right," Hector said, not sounding entirely convinced that they were okay.  The two smiled at him once more, and to their great relief he put down his book.  "Y'know, I'm getting tired," he yawned.  "Think I'd better tuck in.  Now you two don't get into any trouble."  This was a sort of inside joke for him—after all, he knew that doing something without his permission was the last thing the Quagmires would do.  Such nice, responsible, mature children...

The nice, responsible, mature Quagmires watched him like a pair of hawks.  After twenty minutes, Duncan whispered to Isadora, "You think it's safe?"

"Not yet," his sister replied, her gaze darting from the apparently unconscious Hector to their ticket to freedom, which sat innocently in the corner of the basket.  "Wait a little longer."

So they waited.  Hector began to snore, but Isadora remained unconvinced by even this piece of evidence in favor of him being asleep.  "It could be a trick," she murmured to Duncan, who rolled his eyes slightly.  "You never know with Hector."  

Personally, Duncan doubted that Hector would ever come out of his little dream world long enough to realize what they were up to, but he didn't voice his thought.  He had learned over the years that there were many things one did not do in Isadora's presence, and contradicting her was one of them.  It usually led to consequences such as his precious notebook being shredded into little tiny bits and used as notes for Isadora's poem ideas.

"Um," he said noncommittally, looking down over the side of the basket.  He immediately wished he hadn't—he had never known until this trip how much he hated heights.  Something about the way the landscape all looked the same, like little squares on a chessboard.  And he had been seeing eyes all over everything lately—the other day he could have sworn he saw one looking up at him from a large field.  Isadora had, of course, insisted that it was only a crop circle of some sort and nothing to worry about, which somehow did not reassure Duncan in the least.

"All right," Isadora murmured excitedly.  "I think he's asleep now."  Duncan restrained his urge to make a sarcastic comment and tried to smile.  After all, surely he could stand a little more of his sister's insufferable bossiness if he got to have his turn on the laptop!  Although, at the moment, he wondered whether he would ever get a chance at the thing—Isadora seemed likely to take control, given her present mood.

Scrambling over to the laptop, Isadora looked back at Duncan impatiently.  "Well?  Aren't you coming?" she demanded.

"Maybe I should stay and keep watch," Duncan said sardonically.  "Just in case Hector's tricking us.  Because we all know how likely _that_ is."

Isadora favored him with a dark look.  "Come on, Duncan.  This is no time for fooling around."  Biting back a potentially fatal insult, Duncan followed meekly and got ready to make a grab for the computer.

It didn't work.  "Now Duncan," Isadora said reprovingly, holding the laptop out of reach, "I think I know a little bit more about this than you do.  Suppose I operate the computer and you sit and watch.  How's that sound?"

Naturally, it sounded wonderful and Duncan said so in his most cheerful tones.  Isadora beamed and turned her back on him, hunching over the computer screen so as to block his view better.  Duncan craned his neck as best he could, but to no avail.  He would simply have to wait until Isadora felt like letting him see what she was doing.

"There," she said with satisfaction, leaning back slightly with an enigmatic smile.  Finally able to see the screen, Duncan stared hungrily at it.  As he had suspected, Isadora had gone straight to the site they had barely glimpsed the day before.

"Let us find out more about this 'fanfiction.net'," Isadora murmured, practically cackling with glee.  She scanned the home page for a moment, then clicked on the "Register" link near the top of the page.  Frightened as he was by his sister's behavior, Duncan suppressed his slight panic and leaned closer to witness the wonders of the registration process.

The first thing to appear was the Terms of Service, a phrase which here means "a long and boring-looking list of things that users of fanfiction.net were absolutely, positively not allowed to do under any circumstances".  Duncan gave it a glance and turned away, bored.  He hoped Isadora would get on with it and not insist on reading all the fine print first.

She did.  "Name."  He found himself mildly annoyed that Isadora was reading aloud from the screen as if he couldn't read it for himself.  "Duncan, what's my name?" she asked.

He simply stared at her for a minute.  Was her mind going?  "Er…" he managed, wondering whether he had better run or scream for help from Hector.  "Isadora, are you all right?"

"Of course I am, Duncan," she said impatiently.  "But you don't think I'm stupid enough to give them my real name, do you?  I mean, Count Olaf and his nefarious assistants are still trying to track us down.  So what should I tell them my name is?"

"Oh."  Duncan felt a little foolish—after all, he should have known Isadora wasn't _that_ far gone…yet.

"Besides," she added, reading more carefully, "it's not even asking for my real name, just my pen name.  Like a pseudonym," she continued.  "A pseudonym is a false name assumed when you don't want people to know who you really are."

"I know what the word 'pseudonym' means," Duncan muttered irritably.

As I am sure you know, pseudonyms can be used in many different situations and for many different reasons.  For example, a woman in the early nineteenth century might have used a pseudonym to gain more respect for her professional work.  An author with a boring name like Daniel Handler might use a pseudonym to spice up his writing and make it more mysterious and whimsical.  And a very beautiful woman who is now dead once used a pseudonym to escape from a pack of Voracious, Fearsome Dingoes with incredibly sharp teeth.

In this case, Isadora and Duncan were planning to use pseudonyms to retain their anonymity—a phrase which here means "stay safely aloft in a hot-air balloon and avoid giving out personal information on the Internet"—and enjoy the opportunity to use their talents for something other than leaving clues for others to save themselves from being killed, auctioned off in large fish, or otherwise mistreated by Count Olaf.  It was a very pleasant and satisfying feeling.

"This is a very pleasant and satisfying feeling," Duncan said meditatively.

Isadora gave him an odd look, but he didn't notice.  He was too busy gazing dreamily at the laptop, thinking of happy days when he and Quigley would change Isadora's password on their family computer and watch her try to fix it for hours on end.

His sister was also thinking of these long-gone days, but her description of them leaned more toward "exasperating", a word which here means "involving Duncan and Quigley".  Clearly this particular thought would have to be nipped in the bud lest it lead to a coup.

"Focus, Duncan," she ordered, hitting him in the shoulder.  Duncan winced, but she was already thinking about the issue at hand again.  "What do you think my pen name should be?"

"Um…" Duncan said noncommittally.  "How about…how about 'Isabella Quigmire'?"  He shot her a sideways glance, hoping his display of stupidity would excuse him from pseudonym-coining duties forever.  "And mine could be 'Dunstan Quigmire'…"

He had laid it on too thick.  "Come _on."_  Isadora was scowling at him.  "Even you aren't _that_ stupid, Duncan."  He considered saying something equally rude and considerably more creative, but she was no longer listening.

"If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself," she grumbled.  Leaning forward, she typed "poetic~egomaniac" and hit the "Next" button.  Noting Duncan's skeptical look, she explained, "It's camouflage.  They'll never recognize me with a name like that."

"Right," Duncan snorted.  Isadora whirled to glare at him and he began whistling innocently.

"Cut that out!" she hissed.  "Do you want Hector to wake up?"

No, that he did not want.  Not until Isadora the tyrant had given him some time on the computer.  After all, it didn't belong to either of them, so technically he owned it just as much as she did.  He said so.

"Don't be silly, Duncan," his sister told him.  "I'm eleven minutes older than you so I get first dibs on anything worth having.  Including the laptop," she said smugly.  Duncan stuck out his tongue at her and she returned the favor.

Turning back to her registration, Isadora typed out her email address: black_notebook@yahoo.com.  Then she typed in a password—Duncan tried to see what she was typing, but she bared her teeth and he retreated to a safe distance—and clicked on a box to verify that she was indeed 13 or older.  Duncan watched the process enviously, his fingers itching already at the thought of getting his own account.

It reminded him of something…what was it?  Oh, yes, the email address.  "Isadora?" he said a little timidly.  "Can I have the laptop for a minute?"

"Why?" she asked, hugging it closer to her.  "What do you want with my precious?"

"I want to check my email," Duncan explained, reaching for the computer.

Isadora drew back a little.  "Email?  Who'd want to email you?"  Duncan closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  She would never let him live this down.

"Violet Baudelaire," he blurted, getting the terrible moment over with.  Avoiding eye contact and aware that he was turning a brilliant red, he waited to see what Isadora would say.

"Violet?" Isadora repeated, frowning at him.  "But Violet doesn't know your email address."

Duncan grimaced.  "Actually, she does.  Remember those important papers from our notebooks that we managed to give them?"  She nodded.  "Well, one of them was actually my email address.  It was mixed in with the notes about V.F.D."

"Soooooo."  The word was a coo of malicious glee.  "So Dun-Dun's got a _girlfriend."_  Isadora grinned, still holding the laptop just out of his reach.

"Don't call me Dun-Dun!" he howled, forgetting the need for silence.  Immediately he realized his mistake, and both of the siblings held absolutely still, staring at Hector and hoping against hope that he wouldn't catch them red-handed.

Hector rolled over and muttered, "Water, buckets, quick!  Fire…mumblemumble…Esmé…murmble…come back zzzzzzz…"  He curled up, his thumb going into his mouth.  Isadora and Duncan began breathing again.

"That was close," Isadora hissed at him.  "Too close."  Duncan was forced to agree.  Who knew what horrors might have unfolded had Hector woken up and seen them both hunched over his own laptop?

Quickly, Isadora clicked on the Register button to create her account.  "There," she whispered in relief.  "That's done."

"Okay," Duncan said.  "Good.  Now, about my account—"  He trailed off under Isadora's glare.

She closed the Internet window.  "And my email—" he tried again, but his sister gave him her famous Look of Death.  He opened his mouth and closed it again, thinking better of further protests.  "Never mind."

"Very good," Isadora said patronizingly, patting him on the head.  Duncan bristled.  Shutting down the laptop, Isadora returned it to its case and practically leaped into the next basket, not even waiting to see if Duncan was following.  

Duncan didn't really see the point in all this, since Hector showed no signs of waking up anytime in the next few days, but he followed with a sigh and a shake of his head.  He wondered if Hector had any good books hidden away somewhere.  Surely there must be something worth doing around here…

Leaning on the edge of the basket, he watched the clouds go by on their slow way to nowhere.  They reminded him of pillows…and pillows reminded him of afternoon naps…and the thought of afternoon naps reminded him that he was very tired.  Attempting to defy Isadora was always a draining experience.

He yawned and sat down against the wall of the basket, still looking up at the sky as he fought to keep his eyes open.  In the last few seconds before he fell asleep, he noticed something odd nearby.

"Isadora," he said sleepily, "does that flock of birds look like an eye to you?"  Then his own eyes closed and he began to snore.

A/N: I promise, next time I'll write faster!  I promise!  Really!  I only have a month until school is over and then—no, never mind.  Then I'm going to visit family so for a month I might not have access to computers much.  But I will have about a week before we leave…Anyway.  I've decided to make Isadora sort of evil.  And Duncan is…a henpecked brother, I guess.  Poor Duncan.  Seeing eyes everywhere and denied an opportunity to communicate with Violet.  Maybe I'll treat him better in the next chapter, which will be up as soon as possible.  Sooner, if you review…


	3. A Revelation

Disclaimer: I own the Quagmires! And thus, I own their fabulous fortune, the Quagmire sapphires! Muahahahaha…sorry. No, actually Daniel Handler owns them.

A/N: Third chapter! I love this story. And we haven't even gotten into the fanfiction…or actually, original fiction, since Isadora writes poetry. Ah well. It'll come when my rambling plot leads me to it…

Coffee Luv and MORT: All right, here's more…I like your name. But I don't like coffee. Strange world.

edgy wedgy: Um…thanks? Yes, Isadora had to be evil. Come on, siblings fight more with each other when mutual friends aren't around, you ought to know that. And we've never seen them without the Baudelaires in the books, so I'm just basing them on my sister and me. And shut up about the updating thing, I haven't seen YOU update for a while.

regi: Thanks! Hopefully you haven't lost interest…

Waffles4eva! : Thanks! That's a huge compliment, comparing me to Lemony Snicket, you know that? You're making me grin with evil satisfaction.

Jade-Monsoons: Yes, I counted on the originality factor…I love original ideas. dances around, happy to be writing in a section small enough that there still ARE original ideas…

Queenofinsanity: Hmmm…you'll just have to read and see what happens, won't you?

A Revelation

Duncan tried to make himself as shadowy and unobtrusive as possible, staying low as he clambered over the "wall" between baskets. Maybe, just maybe, he could—

"A_ha!"_ Isadora cried, spotting him. "Stop right there!" Gulping, Duncan tried to ignore her and broke into a sprint. He had to get there first! Darting a glance over his shoulder, he saw his sister gaining fast and dived desperately for the laptop.

Triumph! Duncan clutched the small computer to his chest and backed away from Isadora. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed at him, edging a little closer. "You'll wake Hector!"

"Oh no I won't," Duncan said smugly, proud of his own mental powers. He had taken the liberty of stuffing their guardian's ears with cotton as soon as he dropped off for his afternoon nap. It never hurt to be prepared, he reflected, grinning at Isadora.

She watched hungrily as he flipped the laptop open and nonchalantly started it up, pretending not to notice her pleading gaze. "So how does it feel, _Izzy?"_ he asked with a malicious chuckle. "The agony of defeat…knowing that I have won…" He opened an Internet window slowly, enjoying his sister's soft moans of pain.

There was a hostile silence for a few minutes, during which Duncan pretended to be very busy while keeping an eye on Isadora. He wondered what devious scheme her twisted mind was plotting now.

"Aren't you going to share, Duncan?" she asked in a small voice at last. "You know we should share with each other like nice siblings." Duncan stared at her. What was she trying to accomplish by this?

He was about to find out. Forcing back a (fake) sob, Isadora continued, "Our…our…our _p-p-parents_ always said we should share…back when we were all a happy family…"

Duncan froze. His sister had said the magic word _parents._ This was not fair! She was playing on his sentimentality to achieve her own selfish ends. How could she do this to him?

"Don't try it, Izzy," he muttered between clenched teeth, bending over the laptop until he could no longer see her over the top of it. "It's not going to work this time." Determinedly, he typed "www. yahoo. com" in the "Address" blank and proceeded to check his email, ignoring Isadora's ersatz sniffles and crocodile tears.

There was no mail from Violet. Or anyone else important, for that matter. Someone offering a great deal on home insurance in case of fire. Duncan scowled at the screen and went to www. fanfiction. net.

"Isadora," he said, suddenly breaking his silence as he read the recent announcements. "You realize doesn't allow you to post poetry anymore, don't you? You're going to have to get an account at www. FictionPress .com."

_"What?"_ Isadora shrieked. "What? Give me the computer! I must have an account!" Duncan grinned and nimbly dodged her grabs for the laptop.

"Weeeeell," he said slowly, "actually, I think I'll get an account of my own first." He proceeded to do so, pausing at intervals to smirk at his sister. Being disagreeable was great fun. Perhaps he ought to consider joining Olaf so as to maximize his disagreeability…disagreeableness…whatever…

Duncan stopped, horrified at his own thoughts. His mind must be going! If he was thinking of actually joining Count Olaf's evil troupe…He needed to get his mind off this. And the best way to do that was to relax by reading some FictionPress literature.

"Duncan!" Isadora snapped. "I insist that you hand over that computer this instant. This instant, do you hear me?" She stepped toward him.

He ignored her. "Hmm, this looks interesting. 9,000 haikus…"

_"Give me that!"_ Isadora screamed in anguish. "Duncan, you rat, I'll kill you!"

Duncan grinned. He hadn't heard _that_ in a while. …NO, no more being disagreeable…he must concentrate on reading.

"The dandelion: Tiny parachutes waiting, Waiting for the wind." Isadora turned reddish-purple and made threatening gestures at him. Duncan returned his attention to the screen.

Who, he wondered, would actually write 259 haikus in three days? Aside from Isadora, of course…After a bit of poetry-surfing, Duncan grew bored and went back to check his email again. Maybe something had come up in the meantime.

There was only one unread message. Better than nothing. Hoping it would be from Violet, Duncan went to his inbox.

And stared in disbelief. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out on the first few tries.

"Isadora," he croaked. "It's from Quigley."

Isadora was at his side in an instant, abandoning her sulking fit. "What?!" She stared at the screen, displaying the message from ", and then at Duncan. "But…" she said slowly.

"But Quigley's dead," Duncan finished flatly. "Unless…" But he didn't know what could possibly change the fact they had long since accepted, the fact that their brother was no longer alive. Not sure what else to do under the circumstances, he clicked on the message.

"Wait," Isadora said suddenly, her eyes widening. "What if it's _them?_ They could've gotten his password somehow…" Duncan had to admit this was a possibility, but any doubts vanished when he saw the message itself.

(000)

Duncan, it's me, Quigley. I know it must seem impossible to you, but I'm alive. I survived the fire and escaped. I can't tell you where I am, because Count Olaf and others may be hacking into our accounts or using spyware or something equally villainous even as I type these words. But I can tell you that I found the Baudelaires. We were separated, but I think they're safe for now. They told me what happened to you and Isadora. I'm just glad you're out of reach of all these terrible people and no harm can come to you now. I'll be back in contact as soon as I can sneak into this café and use the Internet access terminal again. Give Isadora my love.

Quigley

The world is quiet here.

P.S. Duncan, check this out! It's this great site where you can distort famous authors' facial features. Check out what you can do to this one guy named Daniel Handler: www. literarydistortion. com/ handlerd

(000)

Duncan looked at Isadora, dumbfounded. "That's definitely Quigley," he said hollowly. "I'd know his writing anywhere."

"Emailing," Isadora corrected automatically, but she had to agree. Quigley's style was very distinctive. "I still can't believe it, though." She sat down cross-legged beside Duncan. "Did I just dream that message, Duncan?" she asked.

"No," Duncan said, feeling a grin break out on his face. "No, you didn't." A rare moment of pure joy engulfed him as the truth sank in. "Quigley's alive!" he whooped, leaping to his feet, laptop forgotten. He pulled Isadora to her feet as well and swung her around in a circle. "He's alive, he's alive!"

Now Isadora was laughing too. "It's amazing!" she said happily. "Oh, Duncan, everything's turning out right after all! Quigley's alive, and he says the Baudelaires are safe, and we're safe—" She tilted her head back and let out a yell of unchecked glee.

It is my sad duty to remind the reader that everything was not in fact turning out right after all. In the excitement of the moment, the two Quagmires had quite forgotten the beloved parents who had perished in the fire. And both Quigley and Isadora were very, very wrong in saying that everyone was safe, especially in assuming that Duncan and Isadora were out of harm's way simply because they were airborne. However, there is no need to ruin this, one of their few happy times for a long time to come, with dismal forebodings of the gloomy future.

Isadora and Duncan sat down after a few minutes of dancing and yelling, out of breath but still laughing uncontrollably. "Thank goodness for that cotton," Duncan said, panting slightly. Both glanced toward Hector, who was still snoring softly to himself, oblivious to their antics.

"Duncan," Isadora said softly. He turned back to her. "I'm sorry about—about being such a cakesniffer about the computer. I've been acting really stupid."

Duncan smiled. "You're not a cakesniffer, Isadora. You're my sister," he told her. "I understand. We've had a rough time lately."

"You don't think I was just a little bit of a cakesniffer?" Isadora asked, starting to smile in return.

"Well," Duncan said honestly, "maybe just a little bit." They laughed together. Somehow, almost everything was funny at the moment, and Duncan didn't question it. He had learned how to enjoy moments like this.

"So." Isadora began walking her fingers toward the laptop. "Have I apologized abjectly enough to get my own FictionPress account?" She didn't wait for an answer, and Duncan found that he didn't mind that irrepressible touch of bossiness so much as he had before. The thought of Quigley sitting at an Internet access terminal somewhere, safe and very much alive, made it impossible for him to feel angry or even annoyed at anything his sister might do.

"I feel inspired," Isadora said happily as she filled in blanks on the account registration. "I think I'll write a few dozen couplets after I finish this." Duncan groaned good-naturedly and shook his head.

Quickly, Isadora shut down and put the laptop back in its case. Then she got out her notebook and pen and stretched herself out on the floor of the basket with a contented sigh. "It's been a good day, Duncan," she said with just the faintest hint of a yawn. Duncan agreed wholeheartedly.

"Whaa…?" Both Duncan and Isadora jumped at the sudden noise from Hector. He snorted a few times, then yawned hugely. "'Afternoon, kids," he said to them.

Suddenly, his expression changed to one of perplexity. "Hmm," he said vaguely. "How strange. I can't hear a word. I believe I must have a banana in my ear…" Duncan and Isadora looked at each other and silently elected not to say a word about the huge tufts of cotton still firmly in place.

A/N: Um, that was kinda weird. But they know Quigley's alive! Yay! And I updated in less than six months. That's always a good thing. Next chapter—well, no, I won't tell you about the next chapter because then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it now? You'll just have to wait and see (and review while you're waiting)…


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